


Everything's eventual

by Emeka



Category: Summon Night (Video Games)
Genre: Background Ghift Brattern/Folth, Character Death, Incest, M/M, Unconscious Sex, Yandere, sexually aggressive minor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:54:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22295158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emeka/pseuds/Emeka
Summary: In time, he'll have them both by his side.
Relationships: Erst Brattern/Ghift Brattern
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Everything's eventual

Ghift wipes his trembling arm over his mouth. His body aches with an exertion that burns through his arms and back. Even his mind is heavy with what it took to bring down his brother’s Cross---he’s definitely going to have to work on his stamina if he wants to stand a chance of honoring his family’s heritage. But he managed in the end to bring Erst’s body back home. His determination at least goes this far, though it would have been easier if Folth was still---

but he’s not going to think of Folth right now. That’s a different kind of taxing, mentally and emotionally, and right now he has his brother to focus on.

He sets up a station of sorts in the living room. He probably could if he needed to, but he doesn’t see the need to drag his brother either up into his room or down into the lab. A few blankets are fine for now, just so he can be comfortable if he regains consciousness. Nothing else is immediately necessary because nothing will help the Nether infection. Soon Ghift will make other preparations, but that won’t be difficult either. He’s familiar with where everything is by now.

The exultation he felt earlier, tempered during his long exercise, reemerges.

Right. This is his brother, Erst… who rejected their family’s beliefs, who chose to walk the path of a weak Summoner, who was even going to steal his only friend from him to do the same. Who he had always loved to a point even their parents would find unseemly, if they had ever bothered to notice anything he felt at all.

He grips the collar of his coat, fingering it with his thumbs the way he had always imagined doing it. He’s seen him in and out of this thing, of course, but he is reverent as he slowly pulls it down from off his shoulders, watching raptly the slight shifting of his head with each movement. His relaxed jaw allows his mouth to open just a sliver. They’ve always kissed on the cheek, so how his lips might feel has been the stuff of daydreams. Ghift has snuck a few from Folth in greeting and goodbye and enjoyed them, but the press of mutual tender, baby-soft mouths can’t be comparable to a grown-up’s.

His brother… who looked upon his achievement with disgust.

He gulps, squints his eyes closed, and goes in. Just a skin-to-skin kiss, but his whole body is warm and watery, like he’s boiling from the inside. His brother’s lips are thinner than his, dryer, but scorching hot. Even his breath is steam against him. Is it the infection giving him this fever?

Ghift reluctantly strips his brother’s coat the rest of the way off. There’s a little bit of a time limit here, and now that he can see better where the injury is, he allows his curiousity to keep him from lingering too much like he wants to do in removing Erst’s belt, and undoing the fasteners down the front of his tunic. God, he’s so perfect underneath. Bathing together when he was too little to do it himself had afforded him some knowledge of Erst’s flesh, but he’d been much younger then. He’s grown beautifully; still on the slim side, but with curves and muscles, all sorts of nooks it seems, that are new. His chest, sweaty and now defined into actual pectorals, heaves with each breath.

“Holy wow,” Ghift mumbles. The gap between over the sternum is just asking for his hand to slide into it. He obliges. Erst’s heart pumps furiously against his palm beneath the clammy skin---so desperate to hang onto life. So desperate to remain human. But...

The wound on his arm is festering with Nether. The skin around the cut has already blackened and begun to radiate a deep purple outward. It’s impressive that he can last this long when he can’t consciously fight it, given it is a mental infection as well as a physical one. Then again, Erst is a Brattern, as much as he’d like to pretend otherwise. The affinity for it runs in their blood.

“That’s the one bad thing,” he says conversationally. “You have to marry to continue a bloodline.” Erst might have married someday, but he wouldn’t have taught them the way. And while Ghift would pass on their knowledge, he already has (had) the ones he loves, with whom procreation would be impossible. “If I could have… I would have married you, big brother. We could share our blood together.”

As he watches, tendrils crawl up Erst’s arm, both within the skin and from the goop still on the outside. “We would have been so happy, our own family… you, me, and Folth. But you led him astray with you. Ever since you became a Summoner, he looked up to you in a way he hadn’t before. Like he had never done for me.”

He’s not like his brother or Folth. He can’t smile as bright as they do, can’t bring everyone to love him almost on sight. Things don’t come to him easily. He doesn’t shine. This arte he has only recently acquired is his only outstanding trait.

“I won’t let you leave me again. And one day I’ll find Folth and I’ll show him power greater than a Life Resonance Summoner’s.”

With that power he’ll make him heel… and keep him by his side. Friends forever.

Trousers get pulled down next, just to the lower thigh. He has no time or inclination to bother with his greaves, and this is as far as he needs for his purposes. And it gives him a few seconds to gather his courage for the next part. Erst has graduated from boxers to briefs, though in the same blue he remembers. And in the center, he sees the soft mounds of his penis and testicles.

This is the last point of return. Anything beyond this he will never be able to take back.

His hesitation (which he calls in his mind ‘admiration’ instead) lasts only a few seconds. This is the only time he will be able to do this, and it is far more important than any misbegotten ideas of morality. So he hooks his fingers in the band, holds his breath, and pulls.

Erst’s sex is more mouth-watering than anything he had put together in his mind from looking at medical textbooks. The shaft is longer than his whole hand, gathering at the tip into a cinch of foreskin. It’s soft and, with a careful squeeze, kind of spongy. Not too different from his own aside size, and the dark brown pubic hair he’s yet to grow very much of. His scrotum is more removed from his own smooth sac. The skin connecting them to the body is looser, and on the whole they kind of resemble slightly aged oranges.

So this is the body of a grown-up. And since they’re brothers, he’ll probably look about the same when he’s older. His big brother is a more loved, more talented person, but they still bear a strong resemblance to each other. Maybe he’ll even grow up as handsome, though he doubts Folth would look at him the way he looks at Erst. Being attractive is nothing without that natural charisma.

His fingers squeeze a little tighter. Erst is breathing so hard now he can hear him gasping for air. Almost his entire arm now is covered with the sludge and cracks that glow with a deep underwater light. So, so strong. Sometimes despite himself, he had always admired him. He understands completely what others see. But no amount of strength is getting him through this.

“If you had ever just looked back at me…” They could perhaps have come to an understanding, and they wouldn’t be in this situation. If they had made the marriage fantasy into a reality, they could have upheld the Brattern name together. But now, for now, he wonders how well his brother’s body will respond to physical stimulus with a growing infection of Nether.

He jerks his hand slowly up and down, attentive to the way the loose skin bunches and stretches out one way then the other. Considering how much pain Erst is in, he has some doubt whether this will work the way he wants it to. But the human body is an amazing thing. Or maybe this is another example of how amazing Erst is. The shaft stiffens until it’s so erect Ghift’s fingertips no longer glance together. It’s starting to affect him too. He’s done this to himself a few times and knows how nice it feels, and what he’s making his brother’s body feel, even without him conscious to recognize it.

He shifts a little, rubbing his thighs together when he thinks what expression his brother would make if he was awake for this. He wouldn’t have the right to give him that disgusted look when he got hard in his little brother’s hand.

The foreskin retracts to fit like a turtleneck sweater around the glans. It’s all red and wet inside with pre-seminal fluid that sticks to his inquisitive fingers. More of it bubble-drips from the slit. He digs his thumb into it and is almost immediately rewarded by his brother’s thighs jerking up into his butt and a breathless moan that interrupts his panting.

Ghift’s heart leaps into his throat and throbs with a hot and heavy feeling that transmits through his whole body. “Did that feel good? Big brother?” he whispers, voice almost cracking. “Erst?” It’s a strange thing to hear his brother’s name from his mouth, but he likes it almost as well as the title which is his alone to call him by. It’s so… intimate. If they had married, he might call him by his name in private, his own version of ‘honey’ or ‘darling’. “Erst. Erst?” His thumb digs in a little more, making a slippery-wet sound, and causing a choked noise that dissolves into an exhausted coughing fit. “I can’t believe Folth has been freely calling you that for forever. It’s always been just you two, huh? Even though you’re _my_ brother… and even though he’s _my_ friend…”

It’s **cheating** is what it is.

But since he finally has him all to himself, he thinks he has it in his heart to forgive his brother for his side of things.

He tightens his grip on the shaft with both hands and squeezes upward, milking out a few more drops of fluid. His tongue is out before he really thinks about it and pressing into the cleft. It tastes like warm skin and sweat, with a faint sweetness from the droplets. It’s never occurred to him to try what little of his own semen he can produce, so he has nothing to compare it with but it’s not unpleasant.

He swirls around and around the glans, into the retracted foreskin, and down the penis itself. It’s a weird kind of velvety on the head, a contrast to the smooth skin elsewhere that beats against his tongue. An attempt to actually put it in his mouth is short-lived; he can barely get the knob in, but with his lips around the frenulum, he can get some good suction going. The sweet taste grows stronger.

This last part might be difficult to pull off. Before all this he had been saving himself as far as his butt went, for the fantasies he had yet to let go of. Not just for his brother, but for Folth, as well. He’s glad he can put his complete virginity to use after all, but he’s going to need to figure things out pretty quick.

Well, it’s already fairly wet with his saliva. Even with their age difference he doesn’t think he needs to do more than get on top and relax.

He stands to pull his pants and boxers down. His penis, barely bigger than a carrot stick, pops right up. He has to crouch to get into position—his thighs are trembling already after the long night he’s had—and carefully move his hips into place until he feels the tip sliding between his buttocks. His body reflexively recoils at the sensation of heat and wet against his anus, but stilling himself for something like this is nothing. The excitement outweighs any potential anxiety.

“Okay,” he mumbles. “Now…”

He bears down, stalls, tries again. Fine. It’s a little harder than he thought, but he’s mostly sure it’s just himself holding him back. Some lingering hesitation he has no use for. It burns but it doesn’t hurt. If he can just… pop it in… he’ll have the worst part over with.

So he grits his teeth and tries again. Looking at his brother’s pained, flushed face encourages him. This has to happen, all he has is this moment. This is the only time he’ll be able to make love to him while looking at the face he has longed for all this time.

It’s getting to the point where it does hurt. But all he must do is think of the necessity.

He finally manages to force it in, only to be faced with another immediate problem. His arms and legs are about to give out, and he’s nowhere close to bottoming out. He could just… drop, but he’s wary of how that might feel when getting it in just a little was so difficult. Hold on, take it a bit at a time. The muscles in his inner thigh are on fire with the stress of lowering his body with control. They start to bother him more than anything going on with his butt.

They’re giving out. He has just enough time to recognize it and brace himself before they go and in a second he’s completely stuffed full. The overwhelming mix of pain and arousal and physical shock jerks an undignified yelp from him.

Ghift holds a moment, shoving his palms against his eyes to wipe away the tears before they fall. It’s more than being opened up—it’s his insides being skewered. Still, he is relieved. All it can go from here is up. And as his body adjusts and the pain fades, the stifling sense of pressure becomes more pleasant, closer to what he imagined this would be like.

He braces his hands against his brother’s belly to support him in his first fledgling movements. A slow back and forth that sparks against his insides all the way to his guts. The sound of his breathing mixes with Erst’s; in the moment, ignoring the Nether, it’s really like they’re making love. Panting together, his own face by now just as red and sweaty, and his brother’s eyes closed not from the encroaching eternal sleep but in concentration.

“Ah---” The sound comes from one or the both of them. A burst of humid heat goes off inside him, throbbing steadily, some dripping back down his thighs. Giddy thoughts flip through his head---my brother---Erst---inseminated me!---and a shiver runs down his spine. Goose-pimples tingle his arms.

He leans forward, one hand working furiously between his legs, to kiss his brother’s chest. The heart beneath beats sluggishly against his lips, and against the tendrils of Nether growing beneath the skin in streaks. Erst. Erst. ErstErstErst. Something sick pulses inside his head. Climax comes sooner for him than it ever has during his daydreams, slicking his hand and fingers with semen that is thinner, more immature, than the virile load inside him.

Erst’s mouth is slack and unresponsive to him. His teeth do not close against him or his tongue move to prevent his fingers from entering and spreading it in the back of his throat. There is no motion to gag or swallow, but he likes to think he has left a little of himself inside him as well, to drip down his throat and stay in his belly, the last thing he ever ingested.

The night is not yet over. He will never able to share this with his brother again, but that does not mean they have to be apart entirely.

He neatens his brother’s imminent corpse-of-a-sort’s clothing, underwear and all in place, so he can return looking more like himself than he would have nude, and drags him again, down to the basement. His skills at controlling Nether are new, sadly, and at the moment the only thing he has been able to manipulate is the Mudmires. A human being, especially an exceptional one like his brother, may be beyond his ability. Nether itself can’t feel anything, but he still feels a little bad about locking him away.

Some time, maybe years from now, he’ll be able to let him out, when he knows he can use him the way he deserves. And they can bring Folth back together.


End file.
